


by the way

by aknightley



Series: College AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightley/pseuds/aknightley
Summary: Lance has a bad day, but Keith has plans.
  "Long day?" Keith asks, dropping a thumb into the book he was read and closing it. Lance takes his time answering, unwinding the scarf, unbuttoning his coat and carefully hanging it on the hook next to the door.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kantr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kantr/gifts).



> Ahhh I'm so sorry to come back after such a long break with such a short, sappy fic, but it was Chase's birthday so how could I not write more college au for him? I hope you guy enjoy it anyway, and are prepared for just how Soft™ this fic is. :) 
> 
> Title is from Hailee Steinfeld's "Starving."

Keith is curled up on the couch, toes tucked under a cushion to keep them warm, when he hears the sound of keys in the lock. He looks up just in time to see Lance stomping through the door, allowing a gust of cold wind to follow him into the apartment. Lance makes an apologetic noise when Keith jerks back from the cold, and then slams the door shut. The sound it makes echoes briefly and Lance's shoulders slump underneath the huge scarf wrapped around his throat.

"Long day?" Keith asks, dropping a thumb into the book he was reading and closing it. Lance takes his time answering, unwinding the scarf, unbuttoning his coat and carefully hanging it on the hook next to the door. His keys go onto the counter, his bag on the floor next to the door, and his shoes are kicked off and carefully arranged by his things. Then he lets out a long, slow sigh, and walks over to Keith. Keith lets himself lose his place in the book in favor of setting it aside so he can open his arms for Lance to fall into them. Lance collapses against him, settling on top of his body and stretching out.

" _Really_  long day," Keith decides, and Lance makes a soft noise and buries his face in Keith's neck, rubbing his cold nose against the hollow of his throat. He's got his body tucked between Keith's legs, cradled in the space between his knees, a warm and heavy weight against Keith's chest. "What's up?"

"My professor hated my thesis," Lance says into Keith's neck, warm air against his skin. Keith's hand finds its way into Lance's hair to run his fingers through the strands, petting him as comfortingly as he can. Lance sighs slowly again before continuing. "So now I have to start all over and find a new topic in less than two days. On top of that, I lost my favorite highlighter, I dropped my coffee this morning and didn't have time to get a new one, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick." 

Keith tucks his chin over Lance's head, still stroking his hair. "So it was the _longest_  day," Keith says, and Lance laughs weakly and tilts his head up to look at him properly. His eyes are tired and dark, so Keith reaches up to run a careful finger over the shadows under them. "It'll be fine. I'll help you with your thesis."

Lance shakes his head slightly. "No, I wanna do this on my own. I'll just have to take some time and think about it," Lance says, closing his eyes. Keith scratches lightly at his scalp, cupping his cheek with his other hand and running his thumb along Lance's cheekbone over and over. He feels like he's holding Lance's whole being in his hands, propping his head up and gently cradling his body. 

"You don't have to do that right now, right?" Keith asks. Lance's eyes slit half open and he tips his head to the side questioningly. Keith continues, quirking his mouth slightly, "Because I was thinking we could order in and just watch a movie tonight. You'll have all weekend to stress out and I'm feeling lazy." 

Lance drops his head back down to Keith's chest, burrowing deeply until Keith has to pinch his shoulder to stop him from digging his pointy chin into his collarbone. "That sounds good," Lance murmurs. "Nap first?" 

"Sure," Keith replies, just as quietly. He grabs his book again and wraps his arms around Lance, holding him close to his chest. He has a bit of difficulty balancing the book and flipping through pages, but he manages to find his place again as Lance's breathing slowly evens out until he's fast asleep. Keith is already too hot, and his leg is starting to hurt from staying propped up he can keep Lance balanced properly on top of him, but he feels better, calmer than before. It's something that's new to him, preferring to be with someone rather than alone. Lance is the first person he's ever wanted to be around all the time, just to have another presence nearby, just to have another heartbeat pressed close. 

Lance snores softly, and Keith flips a page in his book, quietly reading as the sun sets outside, casting pink and orange light across the wall. He doesn't realize he's falling asleep until he already is, and dreams of blue eyes and bright smiles and endless scarves unfurling.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up to Lance's finger scratching along his shoulder, tracing the same shape over and over. His eyes feel heavy, his lashes stuck together, and when he shifts Lance sing songs, "Good morning, sunshine." 

Keith opens his eyes all the way in shock and then squints at the dark sky outside. "Fine," Lance allows, snickering at Keith's dark look. "It's still night. We slept for like an hour and a half. I texted the order in about ten minutes ago, food should be here soon." He's still draped over Keith's body, pinning him to the couch with his limbs.  Keith shifts slightly, overheated and heavy with sleep, trying to wake up all the way. 

He yawns, stretching himself out beneath Lance before he asks, "Did you get me--"

"Yes," Lance interrupts, rolling his eyes "You've got your egg rolls coming, don't worry." His hand keeps tracing the shape over Keith's bare skin, and he struggles to recognize it until Lance traces it more deliberately -- it's the constellation Aquila, his fingertips tapping out the stars and then dragging between them. 

"The Eagle?" he asks, and Lance's smile blooms slowly like a sunrise, pleased. "How come?"

"I was thinking about the Pioneer," Lance says, still tracing the path along Keith's shoulder, "Carrying a message from us toward Lambda Aquilae. About how it'll take four million years for it to pass by the star _if_  it remains intact, but we still sent it out there." His finger stills on Keith's skin and he exhales, slow and steady. "I was thinking about how -- human, I guess, it is to send something out into the universe knowing that you don't know if it will ever arrive, but wanting to make the effort anyway."

Lance brushes Keith's hair out of his eyes, a soft gesture that still makes Keith's stomach flip even though they've been together for almost a year now. He looks at Keith for a long moment, studying his face with an expression that Keith can't quite translate. Finally he smiles. 

"I'm so glad you told me you liked me," Lance says quietly. Keith bites his lower lip, hoping that Lance can't tell how fast his heart is beating, how hot his face feels, just from the sincerity in his voice, the way it feels like he means those words more than anything in the world. He hates how easily Lance can reduce him to this, to a mess of emotions and shaky insides, unstable like he could spill over at the slightest touch.

Lance starts to grin wickedly when Keith can't find anything to say. "You're blushing," he says gleefully, "Your whole face is--"

Keith cuts him off quickly with a kiss, trying to distract him, but Lance is still laughing into it, even as he angles his head to make it softer, even as his mouth seals over Keith's.

Keith has lost track of the kisses they've traded -- the hungry ones in the middle of the night, Lance braced over his body and hands fisted in his hair; the soft ones, absently pressed to the corner of his mouth as Lance gets out of bed in the morning for his eight o'clock class; the teasing ones pressed to the tip of his nose, used to derail whatever point Keith is trying to make when they start to argue. Lance has kissed his mouth, his forehead, the back of his neck, the knuckles on his hands -- Lance has kissed him deeply, softly, desperately. Every kiss feels like the first and the hundredth. Every kiss makes Keith want more. 

Lance pulls away, eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Keith's so there's almost no space between them. "That didn't work," he murmurs. "You didn't make me forget. Your blush is even worse now."

"Your eyes are closed," Keith says fondly, tickling his hands at Lance's side. Lance squirms a little but doesn't pull away. "What do you know?"

"I know you like me," Lance says cheerfully, opening his eyes again. "I know you looove--"

The knock on the door interrupts him, both of their heads swiveling so they can glare at it, and Lance reluctantly disentangles himself to get their food from the delivery person. Keith sits up on the couch, pressing his palms to his warm cheeks and trying to look more composed when Lance turns around, laden down with bags. 

"Did you order for us or for ten people?" Keith asks. Lance carefully lowers the food onto the coffee table and throws himself back onto the couch, wrapping his leg around Keith's at the ankle. His toes are cold against Keith's warm skin, but he doesn't pull away.

"I can eat it all if you're not that hungry," Lance says innocently, pulling out containers of fried rice and honey garlic chicken, spreading everything out. Keith grabs the chopsticks and uses them to jab Lance in the leg, which makes him yelp dramatically. "What do you wanna watch?" Lance asks around a mouth full of rice.

"You choose," Keith says, biting into an egg roll and tossing the remote to Lance. His book has been set carefully on the end of the couch, a bit of paper sticking out of the middle. Keith swallows his smile before Lance can see it.

"Okay, you did this to yourself," Lance says, grinning. He fiddles with the remote for a moment, and then a familiar scene opens onscreen, a young boy and his dad playing basketball under a sky of stars. Lance makes a pleased noise while Keith sighs, slumping against the couch with his food held against his chest. 

"Space Jam?" he asks, resigned, and Lance replies cheerfully, "You said my choice." 

"This is the third time this month," Keith mutters under his breath, but settles in as the movie plays on, laughing despite himself as Lance repeats lines along with the characters. They leave their food out on the table, and Keith curls into Lance's side, tucking his head over his shoulder and drowsily watching the movie. Lance's hand settles on his leg, fingers tapping on his thigh in time with dialogue and music, until Keith grabs it and intertwines their fingers to make him stop.

He falls asleep again just as the big game is starting, and wakes up to Lance humming along with the closing credits and sifting his fingers through Keith's hair. 

"Good news," Lance says, "They won."

"I was really worried about that," Keith says dryly, sitting up straight and stretching his arms above his head, yawning. Lance's hand strokes down through his hair one last time. "Sleep?"

"What about the food?" Lance asks, gesturing to the empty containers. Keith makes a face, reaching down to pull Lance to his feet. 

"That's a problem for future us," Keith says, tugging Lance towards the bedroom. Lance obligingly turns off the television, pausing only to flick off the light left on in the kitchen before they stumble in the dark towards the bathroom. 

They brush their teeth and Lance washes his face in comfortable silence, bumping hips and elbows at the crowded sink. Lance scrubs at his forehead, headband holding his bangs back, while Keith licks at the foam at the corners of his mouth, making faces when Lance catches his eye in the mirror. Lance laughs and it echoes around the tiles, and Keith basks in the sound. 

Their bed is cold when they crawl into it, but they tangle their arms and legs together until it becomes warm again, grunting when they jab each other and jerking away when they accidentally brush against ticklish spots. Lance ends up tucked up behind Keith, arm draped across his middle and one of his legs angled between Keith's. Keith can feel his warm breath on the back of his neck, and when Lance drops a kiss there, he can tell Lance is smiling.

"Go to sleep," he says, and Lance mutters something incomprehensible in his ear but actually does as Keith asks for once. Keith pulls Lance's arm tighter around himself and closes his eyes, drifting off to the sound of Lance breathing steadily behind him.

 

* * *

  

Keith wakes up to the smell of coffee and bacon, sprawled out on the bed in an arc. He lazes drowsily in bed for a few minutes, soaking up the sunshine spilling in through the window, the sounds of Lance puttering around in the kitchen. He closes his eyes to make it easier to focus on the sounds and smells, the soft humming he can hear over the clattering, the sweet scent of syrup under the frying bacon. Everything feels light and bright and soft, and the leftover warmth from Lance's side of the bed makes it hard for him to want to move.

He immediately shivers when he finally throws the covers off, grabbing the first jacket he sees off the ground and shrugging it on over his shirt -- it's Lance's jacket, the one he stole back before they got together the year before. It's faded and thin in places, but it still smells like Lance, and the sleeves fall comfortingly over his hands. 

Lance is shimmying cheerfully around the small kitchen when he finally makes his way into it, tipping bacon onto a paper towel. Keith makes a grunting noise and Lance glances at him, raising a brow at Keith, possibly in judgement of his messy hair and wrinkled clothes. He doesn't say anything, just gestures to the carafe of coffee, and Keith pours himself a cup and drains half of it in one go.

"I'll never get over how much you hate waking up," Lance says, setting a plate of pancakes in front of Keith when he finally comes up for air from his cup of coffee. "You're like, completely silent for at least an hour, it's adorable." 

Keith gives him an unimpressed look but accepts the kiss Lance drops onto the top of his head before he starts eating. They're comfortably quiet as they eat, Lance checking his phone while Keith mechanically chews his food and gulps his coffee, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. He doesn't even like coffee, but proximity to it because of Lance means he now has a dependence on the energy boost it provides in the mornings, which Lance likes to tease him about.

"I'm gonna work on my thesis today," Lance says finally, setting his phone down and making a dramatically pained face up at the ceiling. "What are you doing?"

Keith swallows one last bite before he replies, "Groceries. Also I promised Pidge I'd check out their newest experiment so I'll probably meet them at the library." 

"Aww," Lance says, reaching over to pat him on the hand. "It's cute how they think you'll be able to give them any advice." He jerks his hand back before Keith can smack his hand away, snickering. 

"They just want an outside perspective," Keith says petulantly. He grabs Lance's plate and washes the dishes from breakfast while Lance drags his laptop and books and notes out of his bag, spreading them over the kitchen table. He mutters to himself as Keith runs warm water over the pots and bowls he used, incomprehensibly grumbling as he starts arranging his notes and boots up his computer. Lance before he settles into research is always noisy, gathering his thoughts and materials; Lance while he's researching or writing is completely immersed, focused on keeping himself on track and finishing. Keith watches him type for a minute and absently wonders how many study sessions and late night papers they've sat through together, how many one in the morning coffee trips they've made, how many times he's woken up on the floor with his papers crinkled under his face while Lance sprawls across his legs and snores three feet over. It feels like more than three years worth of memories somehow, magnified under the lens of how big everything is when it comes to Lance.

Keith dries his hands on a dishtowel before he reaches out and tilts Lance's face up for a kiss, dropping an extra one at the corner of his mouth when Lance tries to deepen it. "Good luck," Keith says, pushing Lance's head back down so he's facing his computer again. "Text me if you need anything from the store."

"Thanks babe," Lance says, sighing a little. He starts shuffling through his notes, sticking the end of his pen into his mouth so he can chew on it absently. Keith heads back to the bedroom to put on real pants and a pair of boots, leaving Lance's jacket on. He goes back into the kitchen to grab his keys from the counter, glancing one last time at Lance, who doesn't look up from his computer as he taps away at the keys, brow furrowed. Keith watches him a moment, taking in his messy hair and his pursed lips and his dark eyes; every aspect of him is familiar to Keith, and yet he thinks he could look at him forever and never get tired of it. He kind of wants to roll his eyes at himself but it's _true_. 

He waits until he's outside the apartment to text Pidge, tapping out a message as he makes his way down the stairs to the parking lot.   _I'm with you today if Lance asks, okay?_  

_Why?_  Pidge sends back. 

_Surprising him._

_I see! What's my compliance worth to you? :3c_

_Pidge, you owe me for that thing in the computer lab a few weeks ago and you know it_. 

_........fine. Good luck._

_Thanks._

The grocery store is busy but Keith is used to navigating it at this point -- countless midnight runs combined with planned shopping trips with Lance mean that he's finally aware of where the bread aisle is. Before, he'd subsisted on delivery food and whatever precooked meals he could afford, but Lance and Hunk both love cooking, and Lance refused to live off of frozen meals and potato chips. Keith's meals have taken a definite uptick in quality since he and Lance started dating, and he's even learned how to make a few things without Lance being there, which makes Shiro immensely jealous, even though he won't say so. 

He grabs the necessities, the bread and milk and eggs. He knows what he needs, but he made a note on his phone just in case, and he checks it as he walks through the store, irrationally worried about forgetting something and ruining the whole thing. 

He texts Hunk as he's leaving the store, making sure he's at home. When he gets an affirmative reply, he packs the groceries onto his motorcycle carefully and heads towards Hunk's apartment, the cold February wind buffeting his face. Hunk is sharing with a fellow engineering major this semester since Lance moved in with Keith, which he seems to have taken in stride, especially because he basically has the place to himself, as his roommate has a boyfriend they visit more often than not. It means Keith doesn't worry about just opening the door when he gets there, pushing it with his foot because both hands are occupied holding his groceries.

"Can I put my milk and eggs in your fridge until I leave?" he shouts, and Hunk yells back "Yeah dude!" from the other room, and there's a series of shuffling noises that mean he's probably putting away whatever gadgets he has lying around just so Keith won't mess them up. In the kitchen, Keith moves all of Hunk's leftovers and sodas around until he can fit his food in, and as he closes the refrigerator door, Hunk comes out of his bedroom with a huge smile on his face. 

"I've got them right here! I still think you could have hidden them at your place, but it was cool getting to see them before anyone else." Hunk hands him a little velvet bag and Keith carefully puts it in his pocket, patting it twice to make sure it's in there. 

"Thanks Hunk. And thanks for letting me make the food here, it's best if it cooks all day but I want to keep it a secret as long as possible." Keith starts pulling ingredients out of his bag, smiling crookedly at Hunk over his shoulder. Hunk beams at him.

"No problem," Hunk says. "I'm gonna be studying for a bit, but I'll probably head over to Shay's in a while. That okay?"

"Yeah, I'll lock up if you're not back by the time I head home," Keith says, already measuring out his broth, bending in half so he can check and make sure it's the right amount. Hunk gives him a thumbs up and heads back into the living room, leaving Keith to work alone.

Cooking is calming in a way it wasn't before -- now whenever he gets frustrated or confused, he remembers Lance explaining the recipe in careful tones, remembers the mistakes he's made and how Lance would laugh but promise they could fix it. He remembers Lance humming under his breath as he stirs bowls full of batter, remembers Lance standing behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder as Keith carefully cut onions and garlic and basil. He remembers Lance dotting his nose with melted chocolate and then kissing it off, remembers getting flour in his hair and all over his jeans because Lance was impatiently lifting him up onto the counter so they could kiss while their cookies baked. Keith can hear Lance in his mind, reminding him to taste as he goes, to tear the chicken into small enough pieces; the memory of the times they've made this together carry Keith through the process until he's finally finished.

He gets everything together and sets it to simmer on the stove, heading into the living room to find Hunk in a similar set up to the one he left Lance in. He's got huge books and dozens of print outs everywhere, along with some weird looking instruments that Keith isn't sure about. 

He looks up when Keith collapses on the couch next to him, grinning as he sets his computer aside. "How's it looking?"

"Good?" Keith says, a little hesitantly. "I think everything was measured right. It looked the same way it did when we made it together. I just know he likes this meal and it's easier than some of the other things to make and transport, but--"

"Keith," Hunk interrupts, "He's gonna love it. Do you think he has any idea?"

Keith shakes his head. "He thinks I'm helping Pidge out today."

Hunk snorts. "Like you could help Pidge out." He yelps when Keith elbows him in the side. "Hey!"

"Lance said the same thing," Keith says, crossing his arms. "I can give good advice, or at least an outsider's opinion, even if I don't know how to code."

"Sure, sure," Hunk says soothingly. "Hey, I'm almost wrapped up here, we could make some sandwiches before I go to Shay's?"

"Yes," Keith says gratefully, hungry just from the smell of his food cooking. He and Hunk spend some time together talking about Keith's present as they slap together a few sandwiches; Keith doesn't really know why he's so nervous but he feels better after talking it over with Hunk, who slaps him on the shoulder and says, "This is so romantic I think I'm gonna cry."

"Please don't," Keith says dryly. "I'm already putting up with Shiro fake crying at me over being in a relationship in the first place, I don't need you acting like me actually behaving like a normal boyfriend is a big deal too."

"Nah, you and Lance are always like this," Hunk says, waving the hand with a sandwich in it around. Keith watches as bits of it fly out and land on the counter, but Hunk just sweeps them into the sink. "Like, adorable and romantic and stuff. It's just nice to see you actually celebrate the big things too, I guess."

"I think he's forgotten about it," Keith says, which leads to Hunk making a sad, pouty face, so Keith raises a hand up. "No, no, I don't mind. He's been really busy lately and this is something we've never really -- we haven't talked about it."

"He's gonna love it," Hunk repeats, swallowing the last of his sandwich. "I gotta go, I promised Shay we'd watch that new alien horror movie together. Are you gonna be okay here?"

"Yeah. Thanks again for letting me do it here. You've got the only other stocked kitchen out of people I know who have kitchens. Shiro is still shitty at cooking, no matter how much Allura and Lance try to teach him."

"To be honest, I'm surprised Lance has had success with you, considering your influences," Hunk says, laughing. "Shiro is the only person I've known who has _literally_  burned water. It's incredible."

"So many people see him as this genius but honestly I'm just grateful I made it to puberty without dying," Keith confesses, grinning. "Lance told you about the time he melted my hair together, right?"

"When your mom made him dry it with a hair dryer it for you and he got mad, yeah," Hunk says, laughing. "That's adorable."

"She didn't think so," Keith says dryly. "He was grounded for a month and my hair got the bowl cut chop." 

"Awwww," Hunk coos, making motions to pinch his cheeks, so Keith starts pushing him out the door. "Fine, fine, but let me know how it goes, dude!" 

"Yeah yeah," Keith says, closing the door to the apartment. It's almost one in the afternoon now, so hopefully he can leave the soup going for another few hours and then get it home and on the stove again before surprising Lance. 

He passes the afternoon doing his own studying and playing games on his phone. Lance texts him twice, once to complain about his paper and how boring it was at home, and once to say that he hoped Pidge's project was going well. Keith replies to both, giving him a made up response from Pidge, and tries not to worry too much about how he'll react when Keith gets home.

It's not that he thinks Lance will hate it, or anything. Lance loves romantic gestures. Whenever Keith initiates a kiss in front of their friends, or buys Lance a large cup of his favorite coffee, or brings him to the dog park so they can pet puppies when he's had a bad day, Lance openly lets Keith know how much he appreciates it. 

But he can't help but worry that this is a silly gesture, especially since Lance hasn't brought the date up at all. He's worried that he's going to look too eager, or like he's expecting more than Lance is. Part of him, buried deep, deep down, is still terrified that Lance is only going with him out of pity, that he's only pretending to like Keith because Keith had confessed to him first. It's irrational, and he knows it's ridiculous, but it's something that sticks with him whenever he worries about anything in their relationship. 

So he stays at Hunk's apartment as the sun slowly edges its way down in the sky, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. When it's time, he carefully packages the soup in tupperware, cleaning Hunk's dishes and setting them aside to dry. He leaves everything the way he'd found it and then locks the door behind him as he goes, groceries and plastic container in hand. Getting everything onto his motorcycle is a chore, but he manages, and then makes his way back home as the sun starts to set behind thick clouds behind him.

When he edges the apartment door open slowly, he's surprised to hear music coming from the living room, but less surprised to see Lance dancing around with a spoon in his hand as a microphone. He's singing along to some top 40 band, eyes closed and finger pointed to the ceiling, dramatically falling to his knees as the chorus reaches its peak. Keith smothers his laughter and tiptoes to the kitchen, putting everything away and pouring the soup back into a pot to heat up again. 

"Keith?" Lance calls from the living room, turning the music down. Keith hurries into the other room before Lance can come around the door, blocking the view of the stove with his body.

"Hey, just wanted to put everything away," Keith says, smiling. He tips his face up automatically, and Lance drops a kiss on his mouth as hello. "Pidge says hello again," he adds, just to commit to the ruse, and Lance makes a face. 

"I can't believe you hung out with them all day instead of listening to me complain about this thesis," he says, heading back towards the couch and collapsing. Keith sits next to him, kicking his feet up onto the couch and tucking them under his body. "I only cried twice today, a new record."

"I'm very proud of you," Keith deadpans. "Maybe one day you won't cry at all."

"Dream big, kid," Lance replies, tilting his head onto Keith's shoulder. "It was quiet today," he murmurs. 

"Didn't seem that way when I came in," Keith points out, lifting a hand to card his fingers through Lance's hair. Lance hums slightly and turns so his head is tucked more firmly against Keith's neck. 

"I was just excited, dude. Sent my thesis off to my prof and she liked it, said I should go full steam ahead. Oh, we should celebrate! Maybe we could go out and eat at a restaurant like a real couple -- by the way, I had to clean up all the leftover food from last night, thanks for leaving that for me." Lance pinches Keith's thigh and Keith pats his head apologetically before clearing his throat.

"Actually," Keith says, a little hesitantly. "I'm making something?"

Lance lifts his head up to look at Keith incredulously. "You? By yourself?"

Keith frowns down at him, somewhat offended by the disbelief in his voice. "Yeah, by myself. I'm not _that_ incompetent, Lance."

"You can say that to me with a straight face _even though_ I once walked in on you trying to scoop sugar out of a pan because you used it instead of salt, I'm impressed," Lance teases. Keith rolls his eyes and Lance pinches his sides to get him to look at him again, digging his fingers exactly where Keith is most vulnerable. Keith swallows his laughter and squirms away until Lance gives up and taps his fingers against his chest. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just teasing you. What are you making?"

"That chicken tortilla soup we made before break? It seemed easy enough and it's still cold out, so..." Keith trails off, unsure of how to end the sentence, but Lance makes a pleased noise and grins at him.

"That sounds really good, Keith. Although you really should have started it sooner if we're eating it tonight, it's best if it simmers for--"

"Hey," Keith interrupts quickly, feeling his face flush when Lance cuts himself off and blinks at him. "I wanted to -- I mean--" He feels every plan he'd made trickle out of his head as Lance stares expectantly at him, ears growing hotter as the seconds go by. He shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls the bag out, pushing it into Lance's hands. "Here."

"What's this?" Lance asks, weighing the velvet bag in one hand. He pulls at the string holding it closed and tips the contents out into his palm. Keith pretends he isn't holding his breath, choosing to keep his eyes locked firmly his own lap, while Lance lifts the little necklace to the light. 

"Is this -- is that meteorite?" Lance asks, touching the little rock with the tip of his finger, sending it spinning in circles as it hangs from the chain. It's dark and vaguely shiny, only about the size of a ping pong ball, threaded through with a silver chain. 

"Yeah," Keith says awkwardly. 

"And it's for me?" Lance asks in a strange voice. Keith finally chances a glance at Lance's face. He's flushed pink across the bridge of his nose, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He looks up at Keith and his smile goes wider and then drops comically fast into a panicked expression. "Oh shit. It's our anniversary."

"It's not -- it's not a big deal," Keith stammers, startled at the dismay on Lance's face. "I just wanted to -- I know you've been busy--"

"Oh my god," Lance murmurs, closing his eyes. "I was gonna -- I had a whole thing planned, I can't believe I forgot--"

"You had something planned?" Keith asks, surprised. "You never said--"

"It was gonna be a surprise!" Lance moans. "I was gonna do a whole bit where I woke you up with breakfast in bed and there was gonna be a scavenger hunt -- I was planning on hiding something at our spot under that tree in the commons, this was so involved, I cannot _believe_  I forgot." He sounds genuinely frustrated and upset, so Keith wraps a hand around his wrist and tugs slightly.

"It's alright," he says, trying to be soothing, mostly just relieved that Lance actually _wanted_  to celebrate their annivesary. "I know you've had other stuff going on. It's senior year, Lance." Lance makes a face and turns his hand so that it's linked with Keith's.

"That's a dumb excuse when you're a senior too, though," Lance says. "And you managed to remember and plan stuff."

"Little stuff," Keith reminds him. "Not a scavenger hunt. I made dinner and got us necklaces.

"Us?" Lance asks, and Keith turns a little pink and lifts the collar of his shirt to pull out a necklace similar to the one Lance has in his palm. "Oh my god," Lance says, grinning. "Matching necklaces, that's adorable."

"I'll take them both back," Keith threatens, but Lance jerks his hand away and pulls his own necklace over his head, settling the meteorite against his chest with his palm cradling it gently. "It's okay?" Keith asks, a little hesitantly.

"I love it," Lance says, letting go of the necklace to lean forward and kiss Keith firmly on the nose. Keith shoves him back onto the couch, flushing, and watches as Lance lays back and lifts the necklace to the light, looking at it closely. "How come you chose this?" Lance asks, glancing at him, and Keith swallows hard and crosses his arms over his body.

"You and I met in astronomy club, and it seemed -- appropriate, I guess. You love space a lot and I -- love you, so." Keith can feel his face flaming as he studiously stares at the necklace rather than meet Lance's eyes. It's not the first time he's said it, or even the second. There have been at least a dozen times over the year when he's murmured _love you_  into Lance's neck late at night, or replied _me too_  when Lance says it to him over the phone, but he doesn't often say it face to face in the early evening, the sun shining deep orange across the wall behind them. It feels bigger in this moment, but also truer than maybe anything in the world.

There are things he could say about falling stars and collisions and fate, about Lance crashing into his life and changing him forever with his words and warmth and never-ending laughter. There are things he could say about how Lance inspires him to try harder, to be better -- that Lance is a guiding light in the night sky for him, a steady reminder that good things aren't beyond his reach. 

But Keith isn't good at saying these kinds of things out loud -- he's not sure he could deliver them without burning up on the spot, and Lance probably wouldn't make it through five words before he burst into startled laughter, so all he can do is curl his hand around Lance's knee and say _I love you_  and hope that Lance knows what those words really mean when Keith says them.

Lance keeps staring at the necklace, smiling softly, and then says, "It's perfect." His voice is like taking a sip of honey tea, warmth sliding into your bones and settling your body into a familiar happiness. Keith curls his toes in and out, watching Lance run his thumb over the rough edges of the meteorite. 

Keith opens his mouth to say something, but there's a loud crack of thunder and a flash of lightning -- the easy sunset that had been steadily falling has dropped into darkness without him being aware, and all of a sudden rain begins to pour outside. It's a heavy, pounding rain, pattering against the windows in sheets. Lance trades a startled look with him and then bursts into laughter.

"The best anniversary weather," he says, being absolutely sincere, and Keith laughs as well, twisting so they can both look out of the window at the dark gray sky and the rain slicking down the streets and unfortunate pedestrians. "So I've got my academic work completed, dinner already made, the perfect evening rain shower, and an anniversary present from my really cute boyfriend." Lance looks sideways at Keith and beams. "In 24 hours we went from the worst day to the best day."

Keith snorts softly and folds himself up into Lance's side, curling a hand around his arm and tucking his knees up next to him so he can soak up his warmth, feeling him move gently as he breathes in and out. It's quiet for a moment, just the sound of the rain and Keith's heart beating steadily as Lance lets his necklace fall back against his chest. 

Keith yawns and says into the peaceful silence, "I stole your favorite highlighter." 

"What?" Lance yelps indignantly. "Keith, I needed that yesterday!" 

He turns on Keith, pushing him into the couch trying to dig his fingers into Keith's sides to tickle him. Keith dissolves into laughter that mingles with Lance's, and they curl together on the couch in a pile of flailing limbs as the rain continues to steadily fall and the day fades into night. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you guys liked that! I hope to have another bday fic out before the end of the year, and maybe?? Something bigger at the beginning of the new year. As always, I can be found on tumblr at [apvrrish](http://apvrrish.tumblr.com) and at twitter at [@apvrrish](http://twitter.com/apvrrish).


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